Wanting What I Want
by divine one
Summary: Callek - callie and derek... could they be meant to be? Epilogue added 040409
1. Wanting What I Want

I swallow my third glass of pinot grigio discreetly, hoping that Grey won't notice I've finished off _this_ glass.

Three glasses was apparently all it took for me to get fuzzy and buzzed. If it had been hard liquor, like scotch or tequila, I wouldn't even be feeling the effects yet. But wine… yeah wine was a different beast.

Sitting back, letting my muscles relax against the couch, I smile darkly. _Yeah, this is the second reason I shouldn't spend time with Grey. Grey feeds me wine, which is so NOT my drink of choice._

Reason one for not spending time with Grey, was that I'm currently suffering from an overwhelming yen for Grey's ex: Dr. Derek Shepherd.

Why I want Shepherd, I can't say. But the fact that I do want him makes me kind of nervous and edgy; it made me nervous and edgy even before I began spending time - girl's nights out - with Grey, little Grey and Yang.

Tonight's 'girl's night out' was actually a 'girl's night in'... at Meredith's place... With wine. _Yippee_!

It was also a night that seemed to revolve around 'love' and 'boys'. Neither of which I had at the moment. _Extra yippee_!

Even Yang, in an odd turn of behavior, was mooning, verbally and publically, over Owen. While Little Grey was quietly, oh so sickeningly sweetly, murmuring about the greatness that was Sloan... (been there, done that). And then, there was me and Grey, the only two 'unattached' women at the gathering. Bonding time. _Fuck_!

Bonding in Meredith's mind meant comparing love war stories. Sharing the length and width and taste of life with Derek Shepherd, et al. Which, okay yeah, I admit, I'm fucked up curious about, but, how weird is it to be getting this information from the source… the horse's mouth as it were?

_Yeah, it's kinda big time fucked up_.

"Bed head!" Meredith yelled out as she stood up and retrieved another (fucking) bottle of wine from the cabinet.

Yang groaned. "Dude, this is so unfair, how the fuck am I suppose to have a bed head story!? Burke and then Owen? Not much hair to muss or fuss about!" She held out her half full glass to Meredith, "Hit me baby one more time!"

Meredith grinned and topped off Yang's glass, watching to make certain that Yang took the sip required by the stupid rules of the stupid drinking game we were playing.

Mini Grey smiled and hugged her empty glass to her small frame. "Sloan has mussy hair; it gets all cute and flat on one side when he's been sleeping for a while. He's so cute."

Okay, this was seriously the 20th time that Mini Grey had mentioned how fucking cute Sloan was. And, no, I'm not petty enough to even think of denying how cute – okay fucking hot – Sloan is, but seriously!

She sounded like one of those actresses from the oldie flicks that came on on Sunday mornings. '_Isn't he just dreamy?'_

I've been holding back from gagging for the past hour and a half.

Suddenly, I realize Big Grey (really a misnomer, both she and her sister could fit in one of my skirts with room to spare) has refilled my glass, and is looking at me for my input on the all important topic of bed head. With a sigh I offer: "Sloan, Sadie, and George, all bad bed head."

"What about, um Erica?"

"We never, I mean I didn't…, we never fucked."

"Everyone thought -"

"Yeah, well, they thought wrong." I drink my wine even though I don't have to. "But," I add with a murky smile, "I did sleep with Sadie, so rumors of my playing for both teams haven't been exaggerated."

Yang snorted with laughter and offered up a new topic: "Boxers!"

"Hey, hey, wait, Meredith hasn't shared her bed head!" As soon as I said it, I could have smacked myself… _I needed to spend less time with Meredith. And less time with her stupid wine. And -_

"Oh, please! Derek looked just like a child whenever he woke up. Hair plastered to his head, sleepy eyes, and half of the time, completely unaware of what was going on around him."

_And damn me if I don't find that description cute and sexy and a fucking turn on. Fuck! _I threw back the last of my wine, ignoring the fact that my empty glass was just a beacon of 'fill me upedness' to Grey.

_How the hell had I even gotten myself into this situation; this: lustiness for pretty boy, bore, McDreamy situation_?

I wasn't certain, but I think it happened right around the time that Derek learned that Mark was dating Lexie.

_It had been a bright and sunny day (yeah, I know, cliché… but, it's true) and I was in an excellent mood; an excellent mood that is, until I rounded a corner on the third floor and saw Dream and Steam talking to one another at a nurse's station._

_Of course, 'talking' may be an overly optimistic description for what they were doing. Growling might be more appropriate. Or snarling. They were definitely doing something that boys (animals) did when they were trying to lay claim to territory that belonged to them. _

_In this case, the territory they were pissing all over was the Grey girls. Somehow (I take no responsibility for Derek's finding a note in his locker suggesting that Mark and Little Grey were boinking …) Derek had found out that Slexie existed. And now Derek was in Mark's face pointing out to him the idiocy that was Sloan/Grey. I, from my spot behind a potted plant, overheard their little discussion._

"_Look Shepherd, I appreciate you, as a friend," sarcasm dripped out of Sloan, coating each of his words, "being worried that I'm ruining my life, or hurting myself, by sexing up Grey. But believe me, you don't have to worry, pal. I've got it under control."_

_Derek stepped in to Mark's space. "Yeah, I'm sure you've got in under control… You couldn't control your dick if your life depended on it." He took a deep breath, "Look Mark, the Grey women don't like being deceived or handled – I speak from knowledge – and deception is your middle name. Not to mention, what the hell do you see in Lexie? I mean, she's nice, but… she's… she's not a woman! I mean, Meredith is a woman, she's complex and, and…, Callie! Yeah, now, Callie is a woman. How can you go from Callie to Lexie and not miss the womanness? That's like going 60-0 in a car… it's crashing."_

"_Lex is a woman."_

_Derek stared at Mark, his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted to the side, a look of complete disbelief on his face._

"_What? She may not be as much of a woman as Callie or Mer, but she's… female. And cute. And innocent."_

"_Not for long," Derek mumbled. "Look, even though Meredith and I aren't together anymore, if you hurt a hair on Lexie's head, I'll be forced to kick your oversized ass."_

_Sloan shrugged in surprise then looked over his shoulder toward the floor. "My ass is not oversized." _

_Derek shook his head and backed away from Sloan. As he picked up his clipboard and left the station, I swear I heard Derek mutter, "How could he pick someone like Lexie over someone like Callie?"_

So yeah, I think that's when it all started. The day that Derek found out about Lexie and Sloan. The day that Shepherd compared me to Lexie Grey and rated me HIGHER.

I've never been rated higher than anyone before in my life. And apparently, I'm a slut for being 'ranked' high. Cuz, every time I saw Derek after that, I noticed something new and amazing about him.

Like eyes. He has eyes.

Fucking dreamy eyes…. Probably where he got the label McDreamy from, huh?

And then there's his smile. The guy has a smile that fucking makes my knees weak. Two months ago that damn smile wouldn't have affected me at all, but now? I've literally had to hold on to a wall to prevent myself from falling over in the presence of his smile.

How fucking twisted and sick is that?

I know, it's super sick.

But I can't seem to stop it.

You wanna know what else I've noticed about Derek Shepherd? He makes me nervous; sweaty palms, shallow breathing, palpitating heart nervous. ME! I mean, I get nervous about shit. I'm human. But guys? Well, okay, yeah. I get nervous about guys too. But never… never this… 'he's in the same room as me, 20 feet away, and all I can hear is my heart beating and all I can do is watch him' kind of nervousness.

It sucks.

So, to recap, my basic sucky situation is:

-I'm obsessed about a man who barely knows I'm alive and is soooo out of my league, he's playing a whole other sport. -I can't breathe, stand, perspire, or circulate blood appropriately when he's within 20 feet of me (and yeah, I've actually measured the distance/effect ratio) -I've become friends with Meredith Grey! How the fuck did that happen? It's like a wolf befriending a rabbit. Fucked up…! And to make things worse, it's like a Wolf befriending a rabbit who has a cute bunny ex-hunny who the wolf has a yen for. It's the stuff fairytales have NEVER been made of.

"You know who we should set Torres up with?" Yang's voice, only slightly slurred, rang out across the living room, pulling me out of my reverie.

"Whooooooo?" Lexie, wide eyed and alcohol glazed asked as she leaned across the coffee table.

"Hey no. No setting up Torres with anyone!" I interrupted quickly from my spot in front of the couch. "I'm off of men. And women. I'm off of humans! If you know a nice Rottweiler…."

Lexie choked on her wine.

I glanced at her, "I'm kidding. I don't do furry or four-legged."

Meredith dragged the conversation back on track, "Who? Who should we set her up with? I want to be a matchmaker. And I want to see a happy ending." She paused, "a non-hand job kind of happy ending."

Lexie giggled, I harrumphed, and Yang glanced at me and I suddenly knew I was in trouble. More in trouble.

"McDreamy!"

_Oh no the hell she did not! Fuck._

"Funny Yang." I offered as lightly (for Lexie and Meredith's sake) and as seethingly (for Yang's sake) as I could.

Yang smiled one of her open, hard-edged smiles in my direction before turning to Meredith. "I mean, you're totally done with him this time, right? It's been half a year?

_Seven months._

"Seven months."

_But who's counting?_

"Right, and while the two of you are no longer a 'two of you', you're still friends and you still think McDreamy is dreamy."

"I occasionally have nightmares about him, but yeah, all and all, Derek's… Derek's a good man."

"Good enough for Callie?"

_I'm going to kill her. Just put me in a small room, one on one, and I swear, I'm going to kill her. _I do my best not to broadcast this thought as Meredith scrutinizes me, measuring and weighing **my** worth for 'her' Derek.

With a tilt of her head in my direction, Meredith responded, "He's good enough; I don't know if he's strong enough though." .

_Did she just make a crack about my weight?! _I pulled my top closer over my waist – casually.

"Derek doesn't handle strong women well. Me… Addison… The emotional stress is … tough on him. He tends to shut down. Which meant I spent a lot of time talking to a Derek shaped brick wall."

_I don't point out to Meredith that sometimes, emotionally, she's like a mosquito who stab stab stabs, suck suck sucks, revel revel revels… then flies back, seeking a new piece of Derek flavored flesh to stab stab… well, you get the idea. _

_Yup. I refrain from calling her a bloodsucker because she's actually nice. And we're friends now. _

_Damn._

"I don't know if he could handle someone like Callie."

"Someone like me?" I try not to sound offended. I think I fail.

"Well, I mean, you're great. I think you're great. We all think you're great, but Derek. He's skittish."

_**He's**__ skittish!?_

"But, you know what?" A gleam lit Meredith's eyes. "I think it would be kind of fun to see how he handles someone as straightforward and raw as you are."

_Straightforward and raw?! What the fuck is she talking about?!_

"She's straightforward," Yang agreed, "but not raw. I'm the raw one. And, I'm happy to say, my man likes me that way." She swallows the last of her wine.

"So, are we really going to do this?" Meredith's excitement has to be liquor induced.

"Fuck yes."

"It could be interesting."

"Umm… no."

"Ignore her." Yang waved her hand in my direction.

"No. No ignoring. And no setting up of Torres. Me, I mean. With Derek. Shepherd." I'm starting to stutter. _Crap_.

Yang pushed forward. "So Torres, do you think McDreamy is dreamy?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean, he's cute. That's kind of obvious. But, no. No! He's not my type."

"And how HAS your type been working out for you?"

I flip my middle finger up at Yang but remained silent.

"That good huh?"

Meredith, still looking at me, slowly begins to nod. "You know, this might work. They might actually… click."

"Look, guys, there will be no 'clicking'," I get up from the floor and straighten my jeans. "There will be no 'working'. We're not pursuing this train of thought. Let's set up Meredith instead." The silence in the room makes me nervous. "Ladies?"

"Nuh uh," Meredith laid her head against her sister's shoulder. "I don't want to be the recipient of the matchmaking. I want to be the matchmaker."

I head to the coat rack and grab my leather jacket. "Well, then, our little club will just have to find some other guinea pig for our matchmaking schemes."

"Scaredy cat."

Yang again.

"Yang, I swear to God, I'm going to put itching powder in your sheets if you don't knock it off."

Yang raised her hands in a sign of submission.

I smile my goodbyes and head out into the night, leaving Grey, Grey, and Yang to finish up the wine.

When I think back on that night, Yang's easy capitulation really should have put me on my guard. I guess I'll just have to blame the fucking wine on my failure to 'always be prepared'. That, and the fact that I'm not a boy scout.


	2. The Set Up

"How did I get talked into this again?"

"I believe it was a strong example of peer pressure."

"I need new peers". Derek stood in the lockerroom in a towel, his hair still wet from the shower.

"Or peers who are less controlled by their women." Owen pulled off his scrub top. "I'd never admit it to her face, but, for a petite little thing, Cristina can be rather intimidating."

"Petite and pouty would be my description of Lex." Mark buckled up his pants. "There's something in that pout that just… takes my nuts and twists them until I say 'uncle'."

"So, basically I'm doing this to save your two asses… or cocks?"

"No. No." Mark grinned, "You're doing it for a much more important cause. You're doing it so that Owen and I will continue to get laid."

"Great. Wonderful. Like you two need any more time in the on call rooms?"

Owen paused, "can you ever, really have too much time in the on call room?"

Mark smiled deeply, "The answer to that question would be 'hell no'. And you, my friend" Mark leaned against his locker and looked at Derek, "haven't used the on call rooms for the right reason in waaaay too long."

Boxers on, Derek pulled out the blue shirt he'd chosen for the evening, put it on and started to button it up. "Either one of you want to be a pal and give me a hint about my date?"

Mark looked at Owen, who looked back at Mark. In unison they stated: "No."

"You two are a big help. Whatever happened to bros before hos?"

"I think that rule was created by some guy who wasn't getting laid."

Derek sighed. "Is she at least cute?"

"I'd dare to say she's hot." Owen offered.

"Will we have anything in common? Where'd you guys find her?"

"First of all, 'we' didn't find her. This is all Lexie, Yang, and Grey's doing. They 'found' her. We're just their willing pawns in the game of love."

"Willing pawns… game of…?" Owen shook his head in Mark's direction indicating that he had officially entered the 'no 'nads' zone.

Mark flipped him the bird.

"Is it too late to back out? It's not is it? I could say I have an emergency. I'm a doctor you know."

"Unless you're prepared to face the wrath of 3 seriously scary women, I'd suggest you keep the date."

"Fuck. I'm not doing tequila anymore. Tequila's what got me into this mess! If I'd been sober when you brought up this stupid blind date idea, I'd be going home tonight instead of going out to Le Petite Singe."

"Yeah, you'd be going home – alone."

"I'll probably STILL be going home alone."

"Out of curiosity, how long **has** it been since you've been out on a date?"

"I date."

"I repeat, _when_ was the last time you were on a date?"

"Three months ago."

"Three fucking months?" Mark dropped down on to the bench. "How is it your dick hasn't fallen off from disuse?"

Owen responded, "I'm guessing: self appreciation."

"I've been busy! Neurosurgeon here. Long hours, patients in need…, dating isn't easy."

Mark shook his head in disbelief. "You're seriously going to use the fact that you're a neurosurgeon as an excuse for your **not** getting any? Women clambering all over you is at least _half_ the reason any self-respecting man goes into medicine. And you're a surgeon on top of it? You should be beating women away with your meat stick."

Owen laughed. And it was Derek's turn to flip his 'friends' the bird.

"Fine, I'm out of here. But if this date is a nightmare – which I'm certain it will be - I'm going to make the two of you suffer."

**Wwiw wwiw wwiw wwiw**

_This is stupid. Really stupid. _I indicate to the florist that I want five of the pale purple orchids. _I don't want to go on a blind date. Yet here I am, at the florists buying 'just in case' flowers for a woman I've never met, so that I can go to a fancy restaurant, make awkward conversation, pay a large bill, and act like I'm going to call her 'sometime next week'. _

Paying for the flowers, I head out to the car. "How the fuck did I end up letting Lexie, Yang, and _Meredith_, of all people set me up?" I mutter as I put the vase onto the passenger seat with a sigh.

_Great doctors each of them, but…. What do they know about me? Okay, Meredith, she might know something about me; but… not enough. Not enough for it to work between us_. I start the engine with a quiet groan._ Of course it probably isn't fair of me to expect anyone else to know what I want when __**I**__ don't even know what I want. _

A pair of chocolate brown eyes flash through my mind. Again.

I know who the owner of the eyes is, but I also know thinking about their owner is the first sign of impending insanity. Not only is Torres NOT my type, I'm pretty damn certain that I'm the last man on earth she'd consider… well that she'd consider doing anything but surgery with.

None the less, it was Torres' smile and Torres' eyes that had been haunting me for the last… what six, seven months? Not haunting me in the stalker, scary, killer way, but more in the 'waking up with a hard on' way, or in the 'all I can do is smile in her direction like a dumbstruck teenager' way.

I really didn't understand why Callie was suddenly having this affect on me; why I was finding myself reverting to a pubescent boy when I was around her – wet dreams and all.

It's not like I am really interested in her. I'm not. I can't be. Not really.

Okay, I will admit to sexual interest, but anything beyond that…. Not a chance. The two of us aren't a possibility. We aren't even supposed to be on one another's radars.

But there you go. Apparently, my radar is fucked up because Torres is a most definite blip on my screen. A sexy, beautiful, sassy, _blip..._ that I knew I didn't stand a chance with.

As I pull up in front of the restaurant, I try and shake off all thoughts of Callie Torres, and cracking my neck, I head to the front door.

Now I just needed to find my date for the evening. My instructions were to ask for table three, and look for the woman in the red dress.

_I just hope she's cute_.

**Wwiw wwiw wwiw wwiw**

_Nothing worse than being the first person at a party._ Callie thought as she sat in the middle of the restaurant impatiently shaking her leg back and forth.

It was girl's night out again and the venue of choice (Lexie's choice) was this chi-chi restaurant in the middle of Seattle's tony downtown area. They were all supposed to have met here at 7. It was now, Callie glanced at her watch again, ten after seven, and yeah, she was all alone, at a table in the middle of the restaurant, in a ridiculously fancy red dress, drinking ice water, and eating bread.

Sipping the water she'd 'ordered', Callie looked toward the door again. Why they'd agreed to meet on a Friday night was beyond her. Fridays were historically date nights. Lexie and Yang should have been spending time with Mark and Owen, but instead… they'd planned this all pussy parade. _Not that there was anything wrong with pussy._

She had this last thought as her eyes skimmed past the entrance of the restaurant – again. Only this time, she did a double take and refocused on the door, or rather on the person who'd just walked through the door. Derek Shepherd. Callie's cell started to ring as a thought skipped though her head, causing her to flush: _There's nothing wrong with pussy, but, nope, there's definitely nothing wrong with a bit of cock either._

As she watched him speak with the host, Callie flipped open her phone and barked a quiet, "Torres."

"It's Yang –"

"Where the hell are you gu—"

"Shut up and listen; you've been set up by the Seattle Grace Matchmakers. Have fun with Shepherd!"

As the dial tone clicked in, Callie cursed silently. _Shit. Fuck. No. No, no, no, no. I'm going to go to jail for killing Meredith, Yang and Lexie! Fuck!_

She watched as Derek turned his pretty blues toward the dining room and began to follow the host further into the room, his eyes scanning the diners until he saw her. A look of surprise registered on his face, then a smile broke across his cheeks; one of those smiles that made her weak in the knees. Good thing she was sitting down.

Looking up at Derek as he reached the table, Callie managed to squeak out one word, "Shepherd."

His eyes sparked and his smile deepened. "Torres."

_Well, this ought to be interesting._


	3. Letting Go

"What _is_ _it _with you and my exes?"

"I don't know; I guess I just like your taste in men. Take it as a compliment."

"So you had a good time?"

Callie smiled through the phone, a silly, girly, happy smile. "I had an okay time."

"Liar! You had more than an 'okay' time; I can hear it in your voice."

Callie groaned, "Fine! Damnit. It was the best fucking date I've ever had in my life. He's charming… cute. He's damn cute. How have I missed the fact that he was so cute for so long?"

Addison chuckled at the tone of enchantment in Callie's voice. "Yeah, Shepherd is cute, but then again, I only do cute." Digging a little deeper for dirt she asked, "So after dinner… did you guys go back to his place? Or your place? Or a hotel?"

"No!"

"Jesus, Torres, don't say 'no' that way. You say it like you and Shepherd knocking boots could never happen."

"Well, I had a good time, and I think he had a good time, but, I mean… we're definitely better off as friends." she cleared her throat and added sarcastically, "We're not exactly the most obvious matches for one another." She added a little more quietly, "Besides, he probably isn't interested in me that way."

"Bullshit! You know, for being one of the hottest, most spectacular women I know, you have the worst fucking self-esteem."

"I have self-esteem." She traced a pattern on her thigh with her finger. "But Shepherd –"

"Is human, hot, and barely worth you." Addison paused, "look, honey, I have to go, they need me at the clinic for a meeting in like five minutes, but, seriously, if I was you, I'd put on something sexy, go to Derek's, and make him wish he had more stamina."

Callie smiled into the phone again, "That's always your advice."

"And when was the last time I was wrong?"

"Well there was the time with –"

"Shut up! Okay, I have to go; love you."

"Love you too." Callie hung up the phone and dropped her head to the side.

After the initial shock of finding out that they'd been set up with one another, Friday night had been perfect.

Derek had done everything a guy should do on a date. He complimented her on her stupidly revealing red dress. He ordered the perfect wine to go with the perfect meal. He even fucking listened to her. He made her smile, and laugh, and giggle. _He fucking made her giggle_!

The whole night, the words: sexy/hot/funny/intelligent/cute/chivalrous/charming kept rushing through her mind as she looked at him. He was fucking perfect.

Oh, realistically, she knew he wasn't perfect . But that night, Friday night... he was pretty damn close to it.

She glanced at the vase on her bedside table. He'd even gotten he flowers.

Flowers!

The last time she received flowers from a man, she'd been in high school and on the way to her junior prom. The guy's hands had been sweating as he pinned the hideous corsage to her dress – under her father's watchful eye.

Derek's hands, his sexy, amazing, beautiful hands, had been steady as a rock as he handed her a vase filled with 5 orchids.

Yup, steady hands, five beautiful orchids, a chaste hug, and a knee quaking smile; that's all she got from the adorable geek.

_Crap_.

She pushed out of her chair and charged to her closet. Maybe Addie was right. Maybe she needed to take matters into her own hands.

Derek's hand hovered over the cell phone for the 30th time that day. He was tempted to call her, just so he could hear her husky voice say 'Hi'. Maybe hearing her voice, talking to her, would get her out of his mind. He NEEDED her out of his mind, cuz he'd been thinking about her a lot. Thinking about her; and about the ridiculously amazing night they'd had.

She'd laughed at his stupid jokes, and she'd made him laugh; he hadn't laughed that much in years. She was sharp; witty and sarcastic. And beautiful. Christ, she was beautiful; chocolate eyes, dark hair, striking lips. He'd also learned that despite the façade she wore, Callie Torres was as soft and feminine as any woman he'd ever met. She was even shy! Shy!

Torres!

…. Of course, her 'shy' was covered up with an 'I'll break you if you laugh at me or hurt me' armor plating.

He tapped his fingers over the closed phone lightly; w_ho knew armor plating could be so sexy?_

Pulling his hand away from the phone he took a deep breath. Had he ever been this infatuated before?

He backed away from the phone, tucking his hands safely away in his jean pockets. He needed to stop thinking about her, and think about… anything else. Sleep. Sleep would be a good thing to think about; he'd worked a late shift last night, two emergency surgeries, and while he'd been home for a few hours now, he was amped up on caffeine and something that felt a lot like lust.

_Reading_. _I'll do some reading._ There were some journal articles he'd been meaning to catch up on. If nothing else, it would help put him to sleep. Opening up his laptop he turned the power on.

_Yeah, reading will work… I hope_._ I __**need**__ to get my mind off of Callie Torres._

Two minutes later he cursed and praised his luck when he heard the knock at his door and looked out his window and saw Callie Torres standing outside of his RV.

**Her **"Hey."

**Him **"Hey…. Hi. Ummm, yeah, hi." _One 'hi' would be more than enough, idiot!_

She shoved her hands into her dark denim pockets and shifted her weight to her other foot. All of her courage, meager though it had been, had flown out of her as soon as he opened the door. _Horrible fucking idea Callie. Horrible._

**Her **"Ummm, I was in the neighborhood, and…," '_In the neighborhood'?! Fuck me! He lives in the middle of nowhere. That line's cheesier than asking him if he's tired because he's' been running through my mind all night! _"Umm, I thought I'd stop by and see what Dr. Shepherd was up to."

He leaned against the door, letting his eyes scan her face, taking all of her stunning features in.

**Him **"Not much. Reading some articles." _Couldn't I come up with a lie? Something more… more… interesting? Callie's use to interesting. BE interesting!_

**Her **"Oh, well, I was hoping you'd," _jump my bones? Maul me? Make me forget my own name? _"Maybe want to go get some coffee, or something?" _Coffee? How fucking lame is 'coffee'? Torres get a grip! Get a grip on HIM!_

**Him **"Coffee? Yeah, that sounds good." _Take a chance Shepherd. _"But why don't we just make some here. I can put a pot on…?" _He held his breath. And then he realized he was fucking holding his breath._

**Her **"Sounds like a plan."

**Him **"Come on in."

He turned to the side in the doorway, letting her move past him – her perfume passing over him like cool fingers. _I'm so fucking in trouble._

She stands to the side, nervously, as he pulls beans and a grinder out of the cabinets. She stands there until it gets to be too much for her. "Can I help?"

"Uh, yeah, sure…water? The pot?"

She beams. _Something to do with my hands; something that will keep me from jumping Shepherd's bones._ "I can do water."

She slides in across from him in the narrow galley kitchen, grabbing the carafe and turning on the cold water. She lets the water run over her fingers as she tests it for temperature, waiting for it to hit just the right degree of chill.

He measures out beans, sealing the bag when he pours out the perfect amount. Plugging the grinder in, he flips the switch.

Other than the sound of the running water, and the burring of the coffee grinder, they stand in silence.

He finishes grinding before she finishes finding the perfect temperature and filling the carafe to the perfect line. He unplugs the grinder and turns it over – tapping the grounds loose.

The water stops.

He takes a deep quiet breath and turns around; he's almost on top of her, the kitchen is so small. If she turns around they'll be breathing the same air.

Callie lifts the pot out of the sink and turns around.

Blue eyes and brown eyes lock in on one another.

And then he gives up the fight and does what feels right.

Dropping the container of carefully measured grounds carelessly on the floor he slides one hand around her waist and the other at the back of her head and he pulls her into a kiss.

Callie had been kissed before. She'd been kissed _a lot_ before. But she'd never, ever, been kissed like this. It was like he was breathing her. Breathing her lips, her skin, her essence. It was dizzying and delicious and dangerous. So dangerous she felt like she could, happily, get lost and never find her way out of his arms.

Derek lifts his head from hers once, and then dips back in for a swift, soft, second kiss.

As he raises his head, she blinks her eyes open and reads heat and desire and appreciation in his face.

_No one would believe the two of them as a couple… not even their over imaginative matchmakers. But then again, no one could feel the butterfly-wing goose bumps along her skin, or the pounding of her heart in her ribcage, or the press of his hard length against her belly._

As his grip on her loosens – _has he crossed the line? Is she going to slap him? Was it possible for her to be any more beautiful?_ - he opens his mouth apologize or argue, whichever was more appropriate. But he's stopped, by Callie. By Callie's deciding to stop thinking, and to keep feeling.

Dropping the coffee pot so that it lands on the floor next to the finely ground coffee beans, Callie throws her arms around Derek's neck and tugs him closer. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Shepherd?"

His blue eyes spark and he tightens his grip on her again. With a grin he lowers his head to hers again. "Nowhere, Torres. Nowhere at all."


	4. Epilogue Was It Good For You?

He was lying on his back, his body covered with a bit of sheet, a bit of comforter, and a lot of Callie Torres.

Her head lay on his chest, her hand rested at his waist, and her thigh was draped over and between his thighs. He was caressing her arm lightly with his fingers; his body finally almost recovered from the high it had been on for the last hour. The high brought about by the nearness of Callie.

"Callie?" His voice was low.

"Mmmm."

It wasn't an answer it was just a murmur.

"Callie?"

"Hmmmm?" Her body and mind felt like Jello; barely cohesive. But she was more than okay with it.

"So…, uh, was it good for you?" _Seriously, I have to get some better material._

She giggled a low, quiet giggle. And then she trailed her hand up his waist to his pec, her nails running over his nipple in a relaxed teasing manner. "The word phenomenal comes to mind." She lifted her mouth to his neck, pressing her lips there. "And the word delicious comes to mind." She let her tongue dart out to taste his salty skin. "And masterful. The word masterful definitely comes to mind." She kissed his jaw.

"Masterful?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Mmmm, mmmhmmm."

"Masterful. I like that."

She grinned. "Phenomenal didn't work for you?"

"Oh no. I like phenomenal and delicious too." He tilted her head up and kissed her nose, and then her lips. "But 'masterful'? That has a lot of good connotations." His hand drifted from her arm to her breast; his thumb circling her nipple. "A lot of really good connotations."

"Mmmmmmmm."

Moving his hand to hers, he entwined their fingers, "So… what makes me 'masterful'?"

"Fishing for compliments Shepherd?"

"All I'm saying is, if you pump up a guys' ego, you pump up... other parts of him."

"So the exchange rate is 'compliments' for 'sex'?"

He paused for half a second then whispered against her forehead, "Honestly? I think a look, a sound, a touch from you is the going exchange rate for 'sex'."

She shifted, climbing on top of him so that her legs straddled his hips. "You say all of the right things Dr. Shepherd."

"I do?"

She lowered her lips to his; losing herself in his taste/breath/touch. "I swear to God, Derek, you're better than chocolate."

He laughed and without warning, flipped them over in the bed so that he was lying on top of her, her legs wrapped around his hips, his slowly increasing erection trapped between them. Happily trapped.

Corralling her arms above her head he held her wrists together with one of his hands, then he let his gaze travel across her face, taking in her heat filled brown eyes, her slightly swollen lips, the long turn of her neck, and the soft full swell of her breasts. It was then that he noticed the faint flush that was creeping across her honey tinted skin.

"Are you blushing Torres?"

She closed her eyes. "No!"

He dipped his head to her ear. "Oh, I think you are." He slowly moved to her other ear "You know, I've already seen… all of you, and," He nipped at her bottom lip; the one that was begging to be bitten and kissed and suckled at. "You have _nothing_ to blush about…. Well, nothing except for that amazing thing you do with your tongue. That's definitely worth blushing over." He watched as her skin turned another shade of pink as he spoke; heating up at his nearness, his hardness, his unabated perusal of her body.

She blinked her eyes open and desire, languid and undemanding, poured up at him. She ran a foot down his firm ass and his thigh and then dragged it back up. "Mmmmm, see… 'Masterful'."

"Callie," his mouth barely touched hers; his words pressing against her with more force than his lips. "You haven't seen anything yet."


End file.
